


When Nicky met Erik

by charfgs



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Im scared, M/M, i remember writing this when i actually had a 3k essay to write for my degree lol, i wrote this last year and only now am i uploading it to ao3 lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 22:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9518738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charfgs/pseuds/charfgs
Summary: the well loved, unknown, possible story of how a life was changed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> sorry omg i wrote this a year ago and only NOW am i posting this sorry!!! here have some wonderful nicky/erik fluff

It always starts the same, “You have to be joking me”, followed by, “You’re not our son”, and ending with, “Get out of this house you’re no child of mine”, and lots of slamming of doors. That slowly became background noise when I finally met the real reason I knew I wasn’t an abomination.

Let’s bring it back a notch or two though.

In my high school, I had a reputation. Not only was I a hunk, I was a talented one at that. Multi-talented one could say. I was a beast on the Exy field (rivalling Kevin I must admit), I had girls (and boys!) falling at my feet, and my GPA was spectacular.

In my home however… I was the son of a Baptist minister who rescued my mother from Mexico. They were both highly religious, to the point of almost extremism. So, when their only son finally mustered the courage to confess to them who he really was, you can guess how that went. Home was a mess. In fact, I don’t think I could call it home.

There were two Nickys. The one at school, who everyone looked up to, the chatty, confident guy who was always nice, always considerate, and wouldn’t take ‘no’ as an answer. Then there was the Nicholas my parents knew. The Nicholas who was able to drop the ‘Nicky’ mask, was able to experience his emotions, experience the hatred his parents felt toward him for something he couldn’t even control. Religion is hypocritical. Jesus and the Bible teaches you to be loving, to forgive, to accept, everyone but the gays apparently.

So as you can imagine, when my school brought up the opportunity for a year abroad studying in Germany, I raced toward it with open arms. Not only did I adore German, I needed this year away from my parents, from the hate infested house I was told was my home. When the co-ordinator told me I was accepted and I had a home stay with the Klose family, I was ecstatic. For the next few months, I endured the constant tension, turmoil, and disappointment in turn for allowing myself to be excited about escaping this oppressive hole.

–

Upon arriving in Stuttgart airport the next June, I was heavily thankful for my adorable German teacher, and the after school sessions we had. I was able to breeze through customs, collect my (excessive amount of) luggage and finally meet the family I’ll be living with for a year. Blinking rapidly through my sunglasses, I scanned the crowd for my surname, and upon finding it, I raised my eyebrows. Holding the sign was a boy who was pushing 6’1’’. A smile bloomed over his face, the top of his cheekbones hidden under a slight rose-coloured flush; his eyes were half-moons, as they bent in turn with his smile. This smile, however beautiful, was also infectious, as I felt my mouth moving in a similar fashion.

“You must be Nicholas!” he beamed, his heavy accent adding a certain crisp after-effect to his statement. “Nicky, please. You must be Erik” I replied, whilst removing my sunglasses and holding out my hand to him. It was met with an equally firm shake and, I couldn’t help but notice, an anxious shiver.

He nodded in agreement before letting my hand go, holding out his other arm to show me the way to his car. Whilst I followed, I could hear the sound of my heavy suitcase squeaking somewhat across the white, marble effect, floors and looked up to Erik, to see if he noticed it too. He was either too polite to comment, or had a hearing impairment, choosing to go with the former, I smiled to myself. I was going to like Germany.

–

Erik’s house was not what I expected. After one watches the Sound of Music, you expect Europe to be an expanse of green hills, rolling onto another, and woodland creatures everywhere, with a mansion containing the Von Trapps and Julie Andrews singing to you as she glides down the stairs.

Unfortunately, reality didn’t get in touch with the movies when it was creating itself. So I was met with a concrete jungle. It was comforting though, looking up at the face of an apartment building, smiling to myself, again, knowing that this was going to be safe. Erik took my smile and mirrored it back on his face when I glanced over to him. He had such an infectious smile, it was ridiculous.

I followed him up the front steps, into the elevator, and up 7 floors to meet my new family. Turns out, the smile-virus was genetic. His mother was petite, but slim, boasting long brown hair and sea green eyes, with a soft red highlight to her cheeks. She was beautiful, and her smile matched her beauty. I finally had a mother figure who didn’t look at me like I had something wrong with me, she looked at me like another son, she looked at me with pride and affection, and it was something I have been missing for a while. His dad was just taller than Erik, his head brushing the entrance ceiling slightly, with soft wavy brown hair, grey eyes and a tracing of stubble across his jaw, and a large hand which was stretching toward me. “It’s nice to meet you, I understand you know German?” He asked, in a heavily accented voice. “Enough to get by” I replied in German, hearing my own drawl at the end of the last word.

Cringing to myself, I felt Erik’s gaze on me, as I turned to smile shyly, he smiled back; took my luggage and walked down a corridor his hand lifting to point out various rooms. “Here, is your bedroom. I’m afraid you’ve got to share with me! But I’m sure we can work around that.” Cocking his head, he smiled again, but this time only his eyes creased, his mouth stayed in the same place. “I’m sure we can!” I nodded, going toward the bed made up for me and started to unpack. Internally rolling my eyes at the vast amount of stuff I brought with me. Erik pointed at the bible at the top of my clothes when I zipped open my suitcase, “You’re religious?” he asked, an eyebrow raising. “Was religious”, I replied eyes thinning into a line at the thought of my parents touching my suitcase, “Clearly my parents wanted me to help the sinners in Europe”. Erik chuckled, and sat down on his bed, across from me. “We’re not religious in this house, my parents think religion is a cult.” I nodded in agreement – god forbid he ever met my parents.

–

Stuttgart was an interesting place. There was a ridiculous amount of car garages that my friends would love, alongside some beautiful places like Killesbergturm which allowed you to see the entire city from the top of the tower. Erik loved showing me the parts of his city that were beautiful, such as the Sepulchral Chapel, with its “Love Never Dies” inscription. He saw the slight downturn of my lips as we walked past churches, deciding that that was enough for him to not invite me in.

Each night, we sat down to a home cooked meal, and each night it was something different. His father was an amazing cook, and his mother was so warm and welcoming it almost made me cry multiple times.

Each night, when we settled in for bed, I smiled to myself, as I counted 10 things I loved that day. And made a mental note of the months left until I returned to my own personal circle of hell.

Erik noticed my anxious behaviour one night, and I found him sat on the end of my bed when I broke free of my bubble. “Is everything okay?” he asked, softly, in German. Never before has the language sounded so beautiful to me, until he asked if I was okay. He didn’t mean, am I uncomfortable, am I unhappy with the house, was the day too tiring. He was worried about the me before I came here, the me he picked up at the airport. That caring touched my heart, and I was so thankful that the room was dark, as he missed my flush, and the watering of my eyes.

Sitting up, I was level with his chin, and I stared at it as I nodded. “I think so.” I replied, but even I didn’t miss the emotion in my voice. The catch at the end as the lump in my throat threatened to break, the gravel of my voice as I held back the emotions I thought I left in America. Erik covered my hand with his, and squeezed lightly. That was the point at which everything exploded. I couldn’t deny myself this cry. A slow, and quiet, sob escaped me, and that was enough for Erik to take my shoulders into his arms and hold onto me, as I cried into his shoulder. I grabbed at his back, returning the embrace, and allowed myself just this once to give in to my emotions. Erik’s hand slowly ran through my hair, calming my sobs, and allowed me to get it out of my system. He never pushed for a reason why, he never said soothing words to me, he was simply there. He gave me the contact I needed, and he let me cry on him when everyone else cried on me. I never knew I needed this support, until I met him.

He unravelled me. He taught me that it was okay to be emotional, it was okay to hold everything in as much as it was okay to let it out. He had small ways of checking I was okay. From the slight touch at my elbow, to the way he placed his hand on the small of my back when we were in public to tell me he was still there. He calmed me and he allowed me to breathe for the first time, without feeling shame or guilt.

Which is why, when one night he looked me straight in the eyes, and pressed his lips to mine, I felt like all was right with the world. He didn’t expect me to return the kiss, but that surprise was even more welcomed. When we broke apart, he looked at me, with the same smile he wore when I first met him. A flush building across his pale cheeks, and his bottom lip was being gnawed on.

I let out a single laugh of surprise, before taking his hand in mine and intertwining our fingers. This small gesture seemed to calm his nerves, as he stopped biting his lip and instead replied with a slight squeeze of my hand. When we went to bed that night, we both went with smiles on our face, knowing that this year would be even better than we thought.

His parents noticed the closeness between us, and didn’t say a single word toward it. Instead, his mother gave me a knowing nod, and I blinked at her, waiting for her to cast me out of the house for corrupting their poor innocent son, but instead she gave me a hug. A warm, homely, hug. She knew that Erik was happy, she knew I was beginning to come to terms with my own feelings, and she knew that I had changed since I got there two months ago. I needed this woman to be my own mother. My mother needed a lesson in mothering.

–

Soon September came around, and we started school. The classes were fast paced, but thankfully I opted for the English speaking ones, and studied German for 5 hours a week, alongside an Introduction to Marketing course and the compulsory courses. After school, Erik met me with a smile as he waited for me outside the gates, hand held out for me. The smile I caught from him on that first day never did dissipate.

The walk home was quick, but he never once let go of my hand, regardless of any stares older people gave us. It was comforting. He wasn’t ashamed of me, I wasn’t just some toy to him, I meant something to him. Each time I recognised this pride, I rewarded it with a soft squeeze and a smile when he looked at me.

The homework I got from my German class was advanced to say the least, the curriculum in America needed upgrading. However, I had my very own angel to help with that. He sat next to me whilst trying to explain how to conjugate certain verbs, and why a sentence was structured the way it was, regardless of my protests. He also allowed me to take breaks from my work by distracting him with soft kisses to his neck. Well, they weren’t so much allowed as forced. We ended up kissing until I was light headed, and he was straddling my lap. Breaking apart, he stretched over and locked his bedroom door, even though there was no-one home, he wanted me to feel safe. His hand returned to its rightful place on my hipbone, stroking small circles into the skin there, whilst his other made channels through my thick hair. His eyes were resting on my hair, when I bent down again and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. He smiled up at me, before resting his cheek on my chest. This time it was my turn to run a hand through his hair, softly stroking the waves until I hit his neck. He muttered something against my chest, making it vibrate and whilst I appreciated the feeling, I’d like to know what was so important.

He sat back, staring up at me, and cradled my cheek in his right hand, noticing the question in my eyes he laughed. “You didn’t hear me?” He asked, brushing a stray eyebrow off my cheekbone. I shook my head and leant into his hand, enjoying the warmth of his palm and closed my eyes. “Ich liebe dich.” He said, stroking my eyelashes. I had only studied German for a year and a half before coming here, but everyone knows what that translates into.

I opened my eyes slowly, to look at him. One could mistake him for being completely relaxed, but I noticed the knot of his eyebrows as they raised ever so slightly in anxiety. I smiled, and pressed a finger to the skin between them, “As do I you” I replied. The anxiety left, and was replaced with a look I could only describe as love. He reached up and caught the underside of my jaw, kissing softly and moving up until he met my mouth, placing short, soft, quick, kisses there making me laugh. I threw my head back and leant against the desk, he took that opportunity and locked onto the exposed skin between my collarbone and my shoulder. The sudden bite made me jump, before the slow sucking eased my worries. I ran a hand down his spine, slowly, feeling each vertebra; knowing somewhere in the back of my mind, this was okay, this was natural, and this feeling was mine. This man was mine, and no-one, no religious beliefs, no bigoted views could take that away from me.

When Erik came back from my neck, he moved back to my lips, lightly pressing his lips against them before drawing back and looking at me. He let out a single laugh and prodded my neck. “You’re welcome”, he cockily added. His cockiness was so obvious in his native tongue. Slipping off his lap, I walked over to the mirror on the back of the door, inspecting his handy-work. “Not too shabby” I added, raising my eyebrows slightly, prodding at the purple forming bruise. He moved behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and leaning his chin into the opposite side of my shoulder. Smiling at the image in the mirror I leant the side of my head against his, “We’d make such beautiful children”. It took him a minute to translate before he chuckled at me, squeezed my waist and walked back to the work desk, “Break time is over Nicky, time to work”. I rolled my eyes before walking back to join him, “You’re such a blue ball enabler. People like you are the reason— “he cut me off before I could finish my sarcastic remark, kissing me again, I leant into the kiss and smiled through it.

This was it. This is what I needed. This is what I wanted. Erik was everything. This is where I belonged, at Erik’s side.


End file.
